reckless and dirty, like the sort of girl who picks up strangers in bars. I’ve become the woman who picks up strangers at my father’s repass. Handsome strangers with large cocks and deep moans, who pull away from me so he can fully step out of his briefs.
Neal’s gorgeous with his clothes on but off, he stands in front of me like a god. Broad shoulders and chest above a set of tight abs. He’s sporting the dangerous “v” on his hips that drive all women wild. His cock stands proud and erect between his legs. He’s perfection in physical form and I need him to fuck me.
He lays down beside me, legs spread as he lazily strokes his cock. “Please tell me you have a condom,” he says.
I shake my head. “I didn’t think I would end up in bed with anyone.”
His hand tightens around his cock. “I’m clean.”
“Me too,” I say, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. “And I’m on birth control.”
Neal’s thumb slides across the head of his cock, his muscles tightening as a soft moan passes through his lips. “Whatever you want to do,” he says, locking his eyes with mine.
I know I should be the safe, responsible girl I was in college. No sex with condoms, I don’t care if I’m on birth control! But there’s something about Neal that keeps me tied to my hotel room.
I toss my leg over his hips, hovering over him as he removes his hand from his cock. “We’re good,” I say, planting my ass on him, another groan building in his chest. Slowly, I rock back and forth, my ass and my clothed clit rubbing against him. I plant my hands on his chest for leverage. “I’m gonna ride you until you come inside me.”
We kiss, my back curved as his hands run down my spine, towards my underwear, towards my ass. He grabs two handfuls and squeezes, shoving me against him, his pre-cum staining my panties. We share small, steady moans between our tongues and lips, pleasure building in the pit of my stomach like a wet heat.
Neal slides his hands beneath my underwear, palms sliding over my bare ass as my hips rock against him, my clit pulsating with every move. I can get off like this, frotting against him like a teenage girl afraid of too much contact, too much skin on skin.
“Take your panties off,” he says, breathless.
He twists his fingers in the thin band, forcing them over my ass and down my thighs. I push myself to my hands, hovering over him as he hooks them past my knees. I kick them off, pressing my mouth back against Neal’s as my hand wraps around the base of his cock.
It’s like riding a horse , that’s what Suzanne used to say about fucking. If you don’t have sex for a while that’s okay, because it’s like riding a horse, you hop on and it all comes back to you. The last time I had sex was over a year ago, but I have the moves burned into my brain: align his cock with your hole, spread your legs wider, lower your hips, bite back a moan, sink down and breathe.
The second he’s inside me, Neal releases a growl. Deep and animalistic, it makes the blond hairs on my arms stand up. Hands back on his chest, I push myself to a seated position, breasts heaving in time with my breaths as I lift up and down, up and down. His cock stretches me open, filling me up as I rock my hips and tilt my head back, a slow string of moans falling from my lips.
His hands grab my breasts, thumbs encircling my nipples, as I move my hips a little faster. He pinches my right nipple and I laugh, my ass slapping against his balls.
I ride him until I feel an unstoppable heat build between my legs and, licking my hand, I press my fingers against my clit to relieve the pressure.
“I’ve got a better idea,” Neal says, pushing himself to a seated position, my knees grinding into the mattress as our chests press together, our mouths, inches apart, and my clit rubbing against his stomach.
I bounce up and down on his cock, the movement easier now, my hands gripping his shoulders as I go. The friction remains between
Neal’s gorgeous with his clothes on but off, he stands in front of me like a god. Broad shoulders and chest above a set of tight abs. He’s sporting the dangerous “v” on his hips that drive all women wild. His cock stands proud and erect between his legs. He’s perfection in physical form and I need him to fuck me.
He lays down beside me, legs spread as he lazily strokes his cock. “Please tell me you have a condom,” he says.
I shake my head. “I didn’t think I would end up in bed with anyone.”
His hand tightens around his cock. “I’m clean.”
“Me too,” I say, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. “And I’m on birth control.”
Neal’s thumb slides across the head of his cock, his muscles tightening as a soft moan passes through his lips. “Whatever you want to do,” he says, locking his eyes with mine.
I know I should be the safe, responsible girl I was in college. No sex with condoms, I don’t care if I’m on birth control! But there’s something about Neal that keeps me tied to my hotel room.
I toss my leg over his hips, hovering over him as he removes his hand from his cock. “We’re good,” I say, planting my ass on him, another groan building in his chest. Slowly, I rock back and forth, my ass and my clothed clit rubbing against him. I plant my hands on his chest for leverage. “I’m gonna ride you until you come inside me.”
We kiss, my back curved as his hands run down my spine, towards my underwear, towards my ass. He grabs two handfuls and squeezes, shoving me against him, his pre-cum staining my panties. We share small, steady moans between our tongues and lips, pleasure building in the pit of my stomach like a wet heat.
Neal slides his hands beneath my underwear, palms sliding over my bare ass as my hips rock against him, my clit pulsating with every move. I can get off like this, frotting against him like a teenage girl afraid of too much contact, too much skin on skin.
“Take your panties off,” he says, breathless.
He twists his fingers in the thin band, forcing them over my ass and down my thighs. I push myself to my hands, hovering over him as he hooks them past my knees. I kick them off, pressing my mouth back against Neal’s as my hand wraps around the base of his cock.
It’s like riding a horse , that’s what Suzanne used to say about fucking. If you don’t have sex for a while that’s okay, because it’s like riding a horse, you hop on and it all comes back to you. The last time I had sex was over a year ago, but I have the moves burned into my brain: align his cock with your hole, spread your legs wider, lower your hips, bite back a moan, sink down and breathe.
The second he’s inside me, Neal releases a growl. Deep and animalistic, it makes the blond hairs on my arms stand up. Hands back on his chest, I push myself to a seated position, breasts heaving in time with my breaths as I lift up and down, up and down. His cock stretches me open, filling me up as I rock my hips and tilt my head back, a slow string of moans falling from my lips.
His hands grab my breasts, thumbs encircling my nipples, as I move my hips a little faster. He pinches my right nipple and I laugh, my ass slapping against his balls.
I ride him until I feel an unstoppable heat build between my legs and, licking my hand, I press my fingers against my clit to relieve the pressure.
“I’ve got a better idea,” Neal says, pushing himself to a seated position, my knees grinding into the mattress as our chests press together, our mouths, inches apart, and my clit rubbing against his stomach.
I bounce up and down on his cock, the movement easier now, my hands gripping his shoulders as I go. The friction remains between
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